


The Getaway

by quentin_speaks



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: FTM Patton Sanders, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentin_speaks/pseuds/quentin_speaks
Summary: Virgil has had a rough life, and he doesn't care much for his classmates. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if he and Roman were still friends, but things don't always work out as planned.When a new student shows up in Virgil's math class, everything starts to change for him.





	The Getaway

**Author's Note:**

> This is still a work in progress and I hope to have a new chapter out here soonish, but I am working around school and mental health, so we'll see exactly how fast that works. I hope you like it, and if you have any questions feel free to ask

Virgil had always been more of a night person, ever since he could remember. This was, of course, a horrible thing when it came to school, since sleeping through first and second period three or four times a month was a great way to fail classes. On the other hand, it kind of added to his “Bad Boy” persona, and that was something he could get behind. 

People just didn’t mess with him anymore . They seemed like they were too afraid to. What else was he to expect though? When you wear mostly black, miss class without any known reason, and are as tall and imposing as Virgil, people become scared. 

He’d heard all the rumours, too. That his dad was secretly still alive and his death was faked for insurance fraud, that the days he wasn’t in class he was fighting the local gang to get the money they owed him, or that he’d crashed his motorcycle last summer and that was how he’d gotten those scars on his right arm. He’d heard the one about how he’d driven his brother crazy and that was why Logan had stopped going to school with them. He’d also heard rumours that he sold weed behind the middle school gym, but wouldn’t sell to high schoolers, and the one about how he’d once smoked a cigarette right in the middle of homeroom while the teacher was in the restroom.

That last one was true, no matter how embarrassed to admit it Virgil was. Nothing in his brain could possibly explain the thoughts running through his head in that moment, just that afterwards he’d started to become a bit of a legend. The level of badassery achieved was definitely worth it, even if he was suspended for three days  afterwards . 

Virgil didn’t have a single thing to worry about. It was his junior year, he had no friends but didn’t feel like he needed them, and no one had tried to fight him since freshman year. No bullies, no fights, no questions, and he was completely content to keep it that way. 

 

That morning wasn’t much different than any other Monday. Virgil was watching Jacksepticeye play Resident Evil 7 with his headphones in before the morning bell. He was not ready for the hour-long math lecture that was about to ensue, but he never really was. Math just was not something Virgil could grasp. It was like it was written in Russian and all Virgil knew how to speak was English. 

He sat in the very back right corner of the room, furthest away from the door, windows to his back. He was so tall that no one ever wanted to sit behind him, so he found himself migrating further and further from the front every year until he realized that the back of the room was usually quieter anyway. 

Virgil heard the muffled bell ring through his headphones and pulled them off. The girl sitting in front of him laughed at some joke he hadn’t heard, and the boy across from her gave a big dopey grin. He didn't hate Roman, but he didn't particularly like him, either. As long as he kept his stupid mouth shut Virgil had nothing against the guy. As soon as he opened his mouth, though, it felt like Virgil was being sucked in to the gravity of Roman’s massive ego, and he wanted nothing to do with that. 

Mrs. Thompson entered the room, a short boy wearing a blue polo and glasses followed a step behind her, and Virgil wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen him before.  _ Funny,  _ he thought,  _ I thought I knew everyone who went to school here. _

“Alright everyone,” Mrs. Thompson started, “This is Patton, he’s just transferred here from Tuttlebury High, let’s do our best to make him feel welcome.” 

_ Oh, wow I’m stupid,  _ Virgil thought. He watched as Patton made his way back towards him. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, go for it.”

 

The rest of the morning went by in the normal Monday haze. Lunch came way too quickly, and somehow not soon enough at the same time. Virgil sat at a table alone in the corner, reading a copy of Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary.” Couldn’t spend all day watching YouTube. Besides, he needed something to keep up his persona if he really didn’t want to have to actively work at it, and reading nothing but horror novels definitely adds to the element. Not to mention that they were just plain good. 

He was almost halfway through his mango when he heard a voice across from him.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” he asked. Virgil looked up to see the same kid from first period.

“Sure, yeah, why not?”

“Thanks,” he said, “You’re the only person who’s actually talked to me today. Is everyone always like this?”

Virgil placed a bookmark in his book and sat it off to the side. “Pretty much, yeah. You probably don’t want to spend much time with me if you care about being popular.”

Patton gave a sharp laugh, almost like he’d been jabbed in the ribs, “I’m not worried about that. High school can’t last forever, right?”

Virgil nodded and took a bite directly out of his mango, peel and all. “What was your name again?”

“Patton, and you were…? Was it Ethan?”

“It’s Virgil, actually. So what brought you all the way out here?” Virgil could feel his throat closing a little bit. This was the longest conversation he’d had with anyone that wasn’t family in years.   _ That was stupid _ , he thought,  _ obviously his parents brought him here, why else would he move halfway across the state? _

“My dad’s a therapist, he was looking for somewhere to open a private practice, and he just happened to really like it up here.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Virgil was picking at the rest of his lunch. 

Patton seemed to get lost in thought as he pulled out a sandwich from his lunchbox. “Do you want some of this?” Virgil looked up to see Patton offering half of a PB&J to him. “You look like you’re still hungry but sick of whatever that is.”

It wasn’t exactly true, Virgil wasn’t sick of mangoes, more just weird about eating in front of people. He’d never liked the process of shoving food into his mouth and mashing it with tiny enamel-covered protrusions. He didn’t like thinking of it that way so often, but it was just how his brain worked. He was still hungry, though. “I’m okay . T hanks, though.” He forced himself to take another bite out of his mango.

“Suit yourself,” Patton said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “You like Stephen King?”

Virgil talked to him for a bit about different authors and genres, and how they both liked Percy Jackson. The entire lunch period went by faster than Virgil had felt it go in years. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone to talk to that wasn’t his mom.

 

Lunch ended too quickly, and Virgil set off towards his Creative Writing class, finding that Patton was actually headed to the same class. It was kind of strange to him how quickly he’d taken a liking to Patton. He was just really nice, even if he seemed a little more high-energy than Virgil was used to. He thought it was honestly funny how easily they got along, considering he hadn’t gotten along with someone so well since his falling out with Roman several years back.

Virgil felt bad for having drifted off in his head, and he looked down at Patton, who was talking excitedly about how much he liked English classes and writing. Virgil hadn’t realized until just then the massive difference in height between the two of them. Patton was really short. If he’d had to guess, Virgil would say probably around 5’4. He wondered what others were thinking, watching Virgil who was, by all standards, an actual, literal giant, walking next to Patton, who looked a little like an elf. The more Virgil thought about it, the harder the image of Patton in Santa’s Workshop ingrained itself in his brain. 

_ That’s really mean,  _ Virgil thought,  _ He’s not an elf, even if he is tiny and excitable. _

“Anyway, is Creative Writing stuff about short stories or more like poems?” Patton asked, his voice breaking a little. 

“Kind of both, and some other stuff, like personal narratives. We’re starting the main poetry section today, actually.”

“That’s awesome! I love poetry,” Patton said. 

Virgil felt a smile break across his face, and he quickly stifled it.  _ Gotta keep that cool façade,  _ he thought. He loved poetry, in a way that words couldn’t quite describe. His mother had told him once that he was named after the Roman poet Virgil. Surprisingly enough  poetry was one of the few things he and Logan usually saw eye-to-eye on. Not that he and Logan fought a lot, just that they didn’t always get along as well as they could.

“I do, too.” Virgil felt himself close off a little as they stepped into the classroom. Most of the seats were empty, it wasn’t a particularly popular class to take, mostly just for people who had an actual interest in writing, or a death wish. Mr. Brunner wasn’t exactly the nicest teacher of all time, but he was passionate, and what he lacked in being gentle he made up for with how well-put-together his lectures were. “I sit in the back . T here’s no assigned seats but you know how people can be. The entire back row is empty aside from me, and there’s a few seats further up.”

Patton followed next to Virgil and took the seat next to him. “I hope you don’t mind,” he pulled out a red notebook and a set of differently colored pens, “I’ll move if you want me to though.”

Virgil realized how he’d phrased things probably wasn’t the best, although it was a little too late, “You’re cool.”

The bell rang and Mr. Brunner stood up from his desk, launching into the start of the lesson and explaining the new chapter. Virgil focused as best he could on the lecture, and before he knew it the rest of the day had gone by in an unintelligible blob.

 

Virgil walked slowly on the way home; he was never in much of a hurry. His mom wouldn’t be home for a few hours at least, and he wasn’t all that intent on bothering Logan while he was studying. He was mostly just thankful the weather hadn’t turned completely sour yet, even though it was October. Another few weeks and the temperature would drop completely, the snow would start falling and he’d finally get to hear that sweet crunch of snow under his boots. There wasn’t much Virgil could say he looked forward to every year, but he loved the snow.

As he drew closer to his house he could see Roman’s red Nissan Sentra in the driveway.  _ Great, _ he thought,  _ last person I wanted to deal with today.  _ He slowed his steps, dragging as he walked his way to the front door.  _ Maybe I can just slip inside and he and Logan won’t notice me? _

He opened the front door gingerly, hoping to make as little sound as possible. As if on queue the door creaked, and Virgil silently cursed himself. He quickly slipped inside and headed towards the stairs, not bothering to turn any of the lights on or take his shoes off. 

“Hey Virgil,” Roman said, as if appearing out of nowhere. “How’s it going?”

Virgil put on his best fake smile, and turned to face Roman, who was sitting next to Logan in what used to be their father’s study, which Logan had taken over through the course of the last 3 years or so. “Oh. Y’know. Fine.”

“Do you want to work on our math homework together?”

“I’m good,” Virgil said, feeling himself become slightly more irritated with every word. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Roman said, his face showing his relief. 

Virgil quickly hurried up the stairs. He and Roman didn’t really like each other very much, but Logan was so adamant that they had to get along.  _ If you’d just break up with him it wouldn’t be so difficult,  _ Virgil thought.  _ I mean. Shit that was pretty mean. I guess if he’s happy. Don’t know what he sees in that dumbass but whatever. _

His room was a pretty basic dark purple, with just one window covered by blinds. He had a bed, a couple of bookshelves, and a TV, as well as his dresser. It wasn’t much to look at, but he called it home, and his bed was really comfortable. They’d actually had to buy a special longer bed for him to fit into it comfortably, since he’d hit 6’5” sophomore year and his twin-size bed from childhood was way too small for him. He’d sprouted another 2 inches in the past year, and he was hoping he’d finally stopped growing. 

Virgil started on his Creative Writing assignment, trying to write a poem, any poem. It felt like he’d lost a spark months ago, and his writing had suffered pretty severely since then. He sat and wrote, throwing out half-finished poems here and there, never feeling like he’d reach the bar he’d set for himself. His mind started to wander, and he started to wonder if he’d ever feel much of anything again. Sometimes he thought he was broken beyond repair, and there was plenty of evidence in favor of that. 

_ Maybe Logan got all the good  _ _ genes _ _ and I’m just gonna be the super tall circus freak. Mom’s gonna come visit me in the freakshow and feed me peanuts out of the palm of her hand. Logan won’t even bother to show up because he’s too good for that. He’ll probably be getting married to Roman and Mom will be telling me how upset she is I won’t be there. She’ll tell me she’s upset because he needs me there, and she’ll say something like “I wish your father could be here,” and I’ll start screaming at her to leave and then I’ll feel like the biggest asshole in the world. I should really be nicer to our mom. _

Virgil heaved a heavy sigh as he put his Creative Writing notebook away. He’d just do math instead. At least he didn’t feel like a failure when he sucked at something he didn’t even like.


End file.
